The need to get away
03 Feb 2021Count Iblis
Reece had just been promoted to Rear Admiral with the Federation. You would think that would make him ecstatic. It didn't.
It was a means to an end, and he had done it (not an inconsiderable task) with a view to being permitted to purchase a Federal Corvette. The Premier capital battle ship of the Federation, better in combat than the Empires Cutter or the Alliances Type 10.
Two years ago he had laboured hard to get a Duke standing with the Empire to get his Cutter.
Reece DID get his Corvette but found there was so much engineering development work required it was no fun:
With all the shield stats and power consumers he had in mind, his power unit as woefully under sized (even though it was the biggest available) and desperately needed some engineering. He couldn't rememeber what his standing was like with his contact engineer or if he had misplaced their details. In the end he just left the Corvette in dry dock.
He didnt want to be dealing with it.
In some ways he felt like a 'super power whore' : He abhored what the Federation stood for. Their smug, smarmy manner, their self righteous ressolve, their reserved , snobbish stance in life and their narcisstic attitude. He had never felt lonelier than when working within the Federation, closely with the superficial shallow folks within. The Federation, where equality of outcome was rammed down your throat over equality of opportunity, where you were judged solely on your genetics in a disgusting display of identity politics, or thinly disguised racism. Where Corporations wrestled and raped the rights of the individual. Every time. Short termism reigned supreme. He was glad it was all behind him now.
With all the political shenanigans, drama between the elections, the underhand tactics of Core Dynamics and the the flakey ex-president Jemina Halsey in lawsuit of Fleet Admiral Vincent, he had to get away. Closer to home he had successfully ignored Britta the Witch warrior for about 18 months now. She'd reached out to him over and over and it PAINED him to blank her. But he knew if he engaged her, the same games of love bombing (love bombardment, tenderness followed by extreme viscousness) , gas lighting and her self centred repertoire would continue, while she would try to assert her usual power games. At last he started to see her for what she was, a haggered ugly, witch like figure, worn out, weak, insecure and selfish. And also dilutional.
Consultancy work with Core Dynamics and Lakon had dried up with their internal politics and the bigger political movement trying to transform the whole space travel landscape in favour of corporations and the military , in the interests of 'safety and well being of the individuals and sustainability' (The politicians and corporate execs called it 'The New Slick Deal') . All lies, it was nothing but a power grab. Typical of the very corrupt corporatist and statist Federation.
Reece dusted off his Imperial Cutter, The 'Indefatiguable'. The very same cutter that he had used for his epic Distant worlds 2 voyage across the galaxy. The ship was all overhauled and primed with one exception: He had kept the severely 'weathered' patina of the outer hull, faded paint, peeled in place, revealing bare hull metal, as a homage to the special voyage to Beagle point and back.
He didn't know where to go, but wanted to get away from The bubble. He had had enough of selfish humans with their own little petty agendas. Sometimes he felt closer to his own ships AI than anyone , any flesh and blood in the universe.
On a whim he decided to head towards the California Nebula.
To his suprise , with his jump range of almost 40 LYs, he would only take 30 jumps. He had never been there before, but perhaps close, with his Imperial Clipper once, years ago.
He headed towards an unexplored system. Who knows what he would find, at this point, he just wanted peace, serenity and tranquility.